The Wishing Web
by Miranda F
Summary: Told from the perspective of the enigmatic Blaise Zabini, The Wishing Web is a story offering an alternative insiders view of Slytherin House. Who said having ambition was a bad thing anyway?
1. Default Chapter

**Title**: The Wishing Web.  
**Author**: Julia Thorne.  
**Rating**: PG. About the worst you'll get is mild cursing.  
**Spoilers**: Books 1-5.   
**Summary**: Like all Slytherins, Blaise Zabini is ambitious. His ambitions though are not exactly what one would expect.  
**Author's Note**: I'll try and keep the rambling to a minimum. First of all, this story will be told from the point of view of a minor character, Blaise Zabini. Rest assured though, he will not be stealing the thunder of Harry Potter. It is a great annoyance of mine that Slytherins are always portrayed as the bad eggs. Surely not all of them are rotten to the core Draco Malfoy clones? Therefore i decided to write a story providing an alternative view of those cunning folk but i needed to use a character with whom i could do this realistically - i could not suddenly turn Pansy Parkinson into an all right person for instance. Since Blaise has done nothing more or less than be Sorted he seemed like a good choice.  
**Disclaimer**: All Harry Potter characters are copyright of J.K. Rowling and affiliates. No money is being made from this work and no infringement is intended.  
**Acknowledgements**: Many thanks to all the wonderful people who gave me helpful and honest advice when i was planning this story. I can't tell you how grateful i am for it.  
  
- Prologue -  
  
The murmur of voices echoed from behind me as I sidled down the corridor towards the room I knew like the back of my own hand. I should have done – I'd been in and out of the boys' dormitory more times than could be realistically counted over the last five years. It was my sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the routine was practically instinct.  
  
I entered the dormitory quietly. It was empty, much to my relief. I didn't like unpacking all my belongings with the other boys barging around and irritating me. I preferred the quiet.  
  
The green and silver furnishings were depressingly familiar. Oh well, only one more year and I would be free. Well no, there was more training to come after; to become an Auror was a gruelling task where only the best, the very best succeed. I suppose that was why as a career it appealed to me: it was the ultimate challenge.  
  
I started unpacking my things, praying I hadn't forgotten anything this time. My memory is atrocious; I had not gone one school year without leaving something I needed behind. This year it appeared I might have broken that cycle however. Well, I had actually brought all my spellbooks and wand at least. That was very good for me.   
  
I was finishing up when the door was flung open with a loud bang to my right. Flinching at the assault of unwelcome noise, I turned to see who was causing the disturbance. I rolled my eyes in exasperation when I saw Draco Malfoy and his foot soldiers Crabbe and Goyle striding in as if they owned the place. Malfoy gave me his trademark sneer but didn't make any comment. He did not even respect me enough to verbally abuse me but that suited me just fine. I slipped out quietly as Draco started on a tirade about something or other – I thought I heard the name Potter mentioned. Not so unusual. Draco was practically obsessed with his Gryffindor rival, the legendary Harry Potter. I found it kind of pathetic.  
  
I headed back to the common room. I hated being down there; it was always damp and drafty. Maybe Professor Snape felt at home in such surroundings but I certainly did not. I faintly caught the sound of dull snorts of laughter coming from the dormitory. It had to be Crabbe and Goyle. I could not understand why Draco Malfoy tolerated them. They made anyone merely standing in their general vicinity look stupid. Then again, they also looked like they could squash you into mush with one hand and not even call it exercise so I suppose they had their uses. Seeing as I was rather small for a teenage boy I had always avoided a confrontation with them. I never really conversed much with any of my fellow students. The truth is 99% of them bored me.  
  
There was a notable exception – Daphne Greengrass. We had been friends since first year. We bonded over our shared habit of seeking out suitable targets for our cutting quips. Well, we liked to think they were cutting anyway. Unlike people such as Malfoy, we didn't verbally bully these people to their faces; just had a good laugh between ourselves. There had been plenty to laugh at amidst the chaos that made Hogwarts such an interesting school. We never hated our fellow students; we just didn't really like them either.  
  
I spotted her the moment I entered the common room. Her thick glasses and bobbed, dark brown hair were easily recognisable after five years. She was snacking on a Chocolate Frog, nothing new there. Daphne had a voracious appetite and denied herself nothing. As a result she was rather dumpy but that didn't bother her. She waved me over with an excited look.  
  
"Blaise, darling!" she exclaimed, affecting a silly, overly dramatic voice. "I feared you were not coming back, that you had abandoned me to suffer amongst these people alone!"  
  
I frowned. "If you do that voice one more time I'm never speaking to you again."  
  
"Fine, your loss."   
  
I sat down in the chair next to her. There weren't many people there, despite what I had heard before. Theodore Nott was sitting on his own in a corner, looking more like a disgusting miserable weed than ever. There were a few second years that I did not know. The usual gaggle of first years was absent. I supposed that made sense. Everything would be different that year. A sobering thought. All summer the _Daily Prophet_ had been filled with accounts of the activities of He Who Must Not Be Named, although I had often suspected they had toned down the nature of some of the incidents when reporting them.  
  
"Think we'll win the House Cup this year?" I asked Daphne as she scribbled in her journal. She had had one of those every year, filled with notes and doodles.  
  
"That depends on whether Harry Potter saves the world again. You know how Dumbledore can't resist giving him a million points." She replied blithely. I chuckled at that. I wouldn't ever have wanted to be in Potter's shoes.  
  
Draco chose that moment to barge back into the common room as if he could actually sense the very mention of Potter's name. The thought amused me and I made a mental note to share my observation with Daphne later. Malfoy had a malicious gleam in his eye, the kind he got when he was up to something. I watched him, curious, as he walked straight over to Nott with his two shadows in tow and said something to him. Theodore looked suddenly nervous. I could not hear what they were saying but I leaned over the back of my chair regardless in the hope of catching even a tiny snatch of what was being discussed. It could be something interesting, more likely it would be something for us to poke fun at and nothing more.  
  
Daphne looked up from her scribbling and saw me watching them. She craned her neck to see what had caught my attention. "Since when have those two been friends?" she asked with a snort of disbelief.  
  
Nott nodded in response to Draco's words. He did not seem at all comfortable in the presence of the tall, pale boy. Interesting.  
  
"They started hanging out last year," I said, recalling the time I had seen Potter run into them in the library. "I think they were mutually bonding over having their fathers being named as Death Eaters." Daphne giggled. Unfortunately Theodore overheard her and turned sharply in our direction with a scowl. I sighed inwardly. This was the kind of attention I could have done without.  
  
Just as I predicted Malfoy strode over to us. I immediately fell back on my own defence mechanism, the one I had always used to dissuade the morons of that school from trying to talk to me. I have very large, round eyes you see and they look sickeningly cute most of the time. When I am surprised or scared they look downright weird though. In any event I had discovered the simplest way to get rid of someone was to look at them with an expression of pure bewilderment, the little boy lost look at it's finest. It usually worked; unfortunately Malfoy was one of the few people who could not take the hint. Either that or he just didn't care that I would rather drink poison than talk to him.  
  
Daphne smiled at him and his cronies. "Can I help you Draco?" she enquired sweetly.  
  
"We were just wondering what you were laughing at." He turned to me and I widened my eyes a bit more so they looked as if they were on the verge of popping out of my skull. "Zabini?"  
  
I shook my head, apparently clueless. Being so close to Crabbe and Goyle was rather disconcerting. She can handle this one; at least, I hope she can, I thought.  
  
"You."  
  
Draco reacted. "What?"  
  
"I was laughing at you. Satisfied?" I felt a laugh bubbling up inside me that I struggled to conceal. One of the many things I admired about Daphne was her audaciousness despite the fact that it had got us in to trouble a number of times.  
  
Before Draco could say anything more Daphne started giggling again. "I'm only joking Draco, I was just laughing at something Blaise said. No need to be so paranoid dear." Her tone was utterly insincere and I'm fairly sure it did not escape Malfoy's notice but for whatever reason he dropped it. Not without getting a last shot in first though.  
  
"I didn't realise Zabini was so funny," He sneered.  
  
"I'm a funny person," I deadpanned. Having nothing more to say they sloped off.   
  
"Nicely handled Greengrass," I sneered in a perfectly terrible imitation of Malfoy.  
  
"One day Zabini, you'll be as good as me."  
  
"I hope not."  
  
----  
  
I have often wondered what it was that first made me even consider the thought of becoming an Auror. It certainly wasn't a profession anyone in my family's long history had ever entered in to. My family are Purebloods – my father's side can be traced back to the time of Merlin. My Spanish mother too is from a strong magical tradition. Ministry jobs seem to be the common thread although there are exceptions.  
  
Well, whatever it was that implanted the idea it was nevertheless what I wanted and what I would do, my mind was made up. At least, that's what I told myself. Staring at my newly handed out timetable at breakfast the next day I suddenly wondered why I wanted to put myself through Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts and Advanced Transfiguration when I had shown nothing but average ability in those subjects.  
  
I was good at Potions though, very fitting since our Head of House was the Potions Master. But the subject I really excelled at was Astronomy. Since it was a lesson held at midnight most people couldn't stand it and would use any excuse to wriggle out of going. Still, I liked it immensely. There is something about the stars that is just fascinating; I've always thought so.  
  
I set the timetable down. To my left Daphne was chatting with Pansy Parkinson. Despite thinking that she was an irritating airhead she nevertheless spent quite a bit of time in Pansy's company these days. I think she was trying to glean information on what Malfoy was up to from her. After what had happened last year we were all waiting for the inevitable fallout that was going to descend upon the Gryffindors. I wouldn't be a part of it of course; I had never taken any part in the infamous House rivalry, not even in that Inquisitorial Squad rubbish Professor Umbridge had set up last year although I had found the idea of deducting points from people at my leisure rather funny.   
  
Daphne on the other hand had been a member and I still had not stopped teasing her about it. She can be very bossy – in fact she admitted that when she left Hogwarts she wanted a nice Ministry job where she could order people around. Daphne was never forceful with me though probably because she knew I would not lie down and take it.  
  
Without warning she turned and snatched up my timetable. "Thank Merlin - we're taking most of the same classes," Daphne said after giving the parchment a quick perusal.   
  
"You're saying that like it's a good thing." I smirked as Daphne acted offended and smacked me up the back of the head knowing full well I hated that.  
  
"Ow! Hey, I was just kidding," I protested, rubbing the back of my neck. Daphne laughed and told me to stop being such a big baby. I sniped that she had a significant weight advantage on me.   
  
"And height," She sneered back. I laughed, accepting the hit. To anyone else my remarks would have seemed exceedingly rude and personal but I knew Daphne and they did not.  
  
"At least we'll be able to continue where we left off," She said, referring back to my timetable. "Mocking, laughing and when we're really bored, making lists."  
  
"Hm, do you remember when we did that one on the 101 Ways Snape Is a Vampire and he found it on you?"  
  
"Yes. I will live with the memories," Daphne affirmed. "The detention was a riot though."  
  
"Hagrid, a riot?" I asked with raised eyebrows. Hagrid was amusing but only because he was such a disaster as a teacher. I had not actually taken Care of Magical Creatures but I knew all about his 'lessons.' I actually regretted not taking it since apparently I'd missed out on some fun.  
  
"The Forbidden Forest is. And he's ok; when it comes to his grounds keeping duties he actually does know his stuff. Hey, what's Malfoy up to now?"  
  
Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and Nott had all risen and were heading en masse towards the Gryffindor table. A few others tagged along behind, hoping for a fight. They would be disappointed as Professor McGonagall had seen them and was already heading over, nostrils flaring. I decided it would be smarter to stay in my seat and watch the drama unfold at a distance. Daphne had joined the hangers on anyway and she could fill me on the finer details later.  
  
Harry Potter saw them but he ignored them initially. At his side Ron Weasley tensed up. I couldn't see his hands clearly but I imagined they were curling into fists. Who needed a wand when you could engage in some good old-fashioned brawling? Hermione Granger sat very stiffly on Potter's other side but otherwise she gave no acknowledgement to the approaching Slytherins.  
  
The crowd gathered around and blocked the seated Gryffindors from view. I couldn't see what was going on but I saw, or rather heard, when Professor McGonagall got there.  
  
"What is going on here?" she demanded angrily. There was a brief, tense silence and then a chorus of loud explanations broke out.  
  
"We're not doing anything Professor."   
  
"They were making rude gestures Professor!"   
  
"Doing what Professor?"  
  
As wily and sly as we Slytherins were meant to be we were truly rotten at lying and excuses. The crowd quickly dispersed when it became apparent McGonagall was not buying any of it. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Professor Snape still seated at the staff table. He had made no move to stop his students yet his sharp black eyes had probably seen the whole thing. There was very little that escaped the notice of Severus Snape.  
  
Students were starting to file out. Daphne sidled back up to the table as I was collecting up my equipment. The look on her face was one of distinct puzzlement.   
  
"What was that all about?"  
  
Daphne shrugged. "I'm guessing Draco wasn't extending the hand of friendship but what he said…it didn't make any sense to me."  
  
"Probably something between him and Potter," I muttered. The first lesson was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Our new teacher this year was a thin, gangling man named Professor Dorsten.   
  
"That would explain a lot," Daphne sniggered. I stared at her as we left the Great Hall, weaving in and out of our fellow students, occasionally suffering jabs from sharp elbows and angular book corners.  
  
"What do you mean?" apparently, I had missed something. She eyed me pointedly. I stared back until she eventually became fed up.  
  
"Something between Malfoy and Potter? How does that sound to you?"  
  
"Like something only you could think up," I said, amused. As it happened, Potter and his friends were just up ahead although fortunately had not heard what we had said. We both smothered our laughter when we saw Malfoy knock his shoulder into Harry's on purpose.  
  
We were still laughing when we reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. As I pushed through the door I reminded myself of my vow to work harder in this subject. I knew I could be good at it and that I had not always applied myself in the past.   
  
_Well, that's going to change Blaise_.  
  
"Um, Blaise?" a hand waved in front of my face. I slid into the seat next to an impatient Daphne. I had walked right by her without noticing she had sat down.  
  
"Sorry, wasn't looking," I mumbled. She stared at me for a beat, a knowing look on her face but she made no comment. Daphne knew when it was best to stay quiet.  
  
"Hello class, I am Professor Dorsten." The Professor offered us a smile. He had a noticeable amount of missing teeth and the effect was rather frightening. "Welcome to Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts."  
  
"Great," Daphne hissed. "We're stuck with Captain Obvious for a teacher. I'd rather have Umbridge!"  
  
Professor Dorsten went on to explain the various modules of the course. There was one dedicated entirely to the study of the Dark Arts but that did not come until later on in the year. For the moment he wanted us to catch up on all the work we had missed out on last year, thanks to the lovely aforementioned Professor Umbridge.   
  
"I want you to get into pairs," He went on. "To practise the protective ward I am going to teach you to do. It's not particularly powerful but it is a useful little spell to know nevertheless."  
  
He began pairing people up alphabetically. It was a decision that did not sit him in popular stead with his students but the class did what they were told with only a few mutinous glares as they moved to sit next to their assigned partner.  
  
Daphne was partnered with Hermione Granger, which didn't make her very happy at all. In her view Hermione was the worst kind of student – "an anal retentive swot." My partner, as I had dreaded, was Ronald Weasley. We looked at each other for a beat. I sighed, realising that Weasley was not going to move, and got up. I sat down beside him without offering any pleasantry. Weasley just scowled.  
  
I sighed again inwardly. It was going to be a long day. 


	2. Chapter One

- Chapter One -

"Am I glad that's over with!" I sank into a nice squashy chair in the common room with great relief. Daphne flumped down beside me and nodded in agreement. We'd just come out of Transfiguration, which was always a hard class but no more so than on the first day back when everything you had learned the previous year seemed to have vanished from your brain without a trace.

"Do you think we should start our Charms homework now or leave it till the last possible minute?" she asked, glancing at what she'd written down on a piece of parchment.

"It would be very unlike you to do it now," I teased.

"That's true but make sure you do it before Thursday afternoon or I won't have anyone to copy off."

"Ok." She'd do it before then though. Daphne took her studies far more seriously than she let on and her high marks spoke for themselves. She wasn't a great student on the level of someone like Hermione Granger but she did pretty well.

We sat in comfortable silence for a while. First years were running in and out in that annoyingly boisterous fashion that first years have. I looked at them and snorted. It was hard to believe that at one time I had been one of them. How horrifying.

"So, do we stick to our standard routine with them," Daphne asked, jabbing her thumb at the first years.

"Yep. Whenever they ask where a classroom is we give them the directions to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

Daphne grinned gleefully. "Gets them every time."

I chuckled, remembering the many angry new students we'd had after our blood in previous years. Served them right for being such annoying little twits.

As if it had only just now occurred to her Daphne leaned forward and murmured in a low voice meant for my ears only, "Did you talk to your dad over the summer?"

I frowned. I could tell from her expression that she had been dying to ask me this for some time. "I talk to my dad quite often," I replied sarcastically. That was not a topic I wished to discuss right now.

"You _know_ what I'm talking about so stop dodging the subject." I knew she was only doing her job as a friend and being concerned about me but I'm just not that good at talking about my feelings.

Now, though, might be a good time to start.

"No I didn't talk to him about it," I said truthfully. Daphne didn't seem at all surprised with my answer but she was far from pleased nevertheless.

"Why not?" she demanded.

I opened my mouth to reply but realised that upon examination I really didn't know why. I closed my mouth and just shrugged.

"Come on, I don't think he'd really mind. Your dad is a good bloke," Daphne encouraged. I grinned then, remembering the summer she had spent at my house. We'd driven my parents insane but all in all they had been good sports about it.

"Yeah I know…well, how on earth do you come out and say 'Dad I want to be an Auror and risk my life on a daily basis?' Assuming of course that I qualify at all," I pointed out. The truth was that I was terrified of disappointing my parents. They had such high hopes for me, just like all parents do for their children I suppose. I didn't want to let them down. Aurors are well respected of course but that's because they do a very dangerous job. I couldn't see my parents being particularly thrilled about it if I did tell them.

"You could try saying it like that. You've wanted this since second year, it's not like your parents can stop you or anything even if they don't like it," she said reasonably. And she had a point – your parents only ever influenced your choices, they could not actually make them for you. Besides, I couldn't imagine my parents actively trying to stop me. They could be strict and had very old-fashioned ideals about some things but they were hardly ogres.

"I could trade them for your parents if you want," I said brightly. Daphne's parents were what could best be described as 'workaholics.' It drove Daphne insane because their work as Healers at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was all they ever talked about at home.

"Feel free to take them any time. I mean that," she replied earnestly.

----

The end of the first week found me browsing in the library for some books on Truth Potions. As ever Professor Snape had assigned us a pile of homework equal to the height of Ben Nevis. However I rather liked the library. While it did have a somewhat murky atmosphere to it with it's dim lighting and dull décor it was nice and quiet and therefore appealing to me.

As I glanced the shelves I could hear the faint sounds of Madam Pince arguing with Daphne over a book she insisted Daphne had had checked out for over a year. Daphne begged to differ.

" … If you had given that book back in it would have been noted in here - "

"Have you ever considered the possibility that you made a mistake?"

"Don't you speak to me in that insolent tone young lady!"

Amused, I turned my attention back to the task at hand and realised that I stumbled across one of the books I'd been looking for. Removing it from the shelf I decided due to it's vast size that this would surely do for now and headed back to the table where we had left our things. Settling down I opened the book and glanced absently across to the next table. I was surprised to see Potter seated there alone, absorbed in a large doorstop of a book. I tried to see what the title of the book was without success.

"Stupid old cow!" seethed Daphne when she returned from her bout with the pinched faced librarian. It looked like the librarian had won.

"I'm guessing you have to pay the fine."

"Two Galleons for a stupid book that probably nobody but me has ever bothered to read in a hundred years!" she continued angrily. I went back to my own book, knowing that she would cool down pretty soon. Picking up my quill I began to make notes. After a half hour of writing I handed my notes to Daphne so she could copy them.

"Have you seen who's sat at the next table," I said in an undertone as she took the parchment.

"Yeah." When I offered nothing further she added, "And this is important because…?"

"Just don't see him on his own much these days," I mused, curious. I couldn't honestly remember the last time I had seen him without at least Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger at his side.

"Well that's not very surprising," She said dismissively. "What's that he's reading anyway?"

"Dunno. I couldn't see the title," I replied, squinting through the gloom but still unable to make out the lettering on the leather cover.

Daphne got up and began to nonchalantly stroll down the bookshelf in front of where Harry was sitting. He looked up; absently pushing his glasses back up his nose. She continued moving down the bookshelf and he returned his attention back to his book. Daphne risked a glance over her shoulder. Her lips moved slightly. She looked from the book to Harry with great interest. Whatever his reading material was it had got her attention all right.

Picking out a book at random she wandered back to the table and sat down.

"So what was it?" I enquired eagerly.

"_The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_." She paused for dramatic effect. "What do you say to that?"

"I'd say that makes perfect sense really, considering who he is and all," I offered but there had to be more to it than that. Could he be researching a way to defeat You-Know-Who? We discussed the possibilities in excited whispers as Potter continued to read his book, completely oblivious to our speculation. Eventually he looked at his watch. Apparently deciding he'd been there long enough he stretched, rose from his seat and left, allowing us to continue our discussion more freely.

"Well, he obviously came alone so he could read his book without his friends knowing," I said. "Which means that whatever he's up to, Weasley and Hermione aren't in on it."

Daphne agreed. "Yeah. So it's probably dangerous then." She seemed positively delighted at the idea. I, however, was sceptical.

"What?" she said defensively off my look. "Potter and danger go together like Filch and Mrs. Norris. Inseparable." She nodded once as if that settled it – no ifs, no buts.

I scratched my chin thoughtfully. "It is possible that he is in fact not up to anything at all and this is all just wild unfounded theories made up by two people who have no lives." We both laughed.

"I'll go with that," Daphne said between giggles.

"Damn straight. Do you want to finish this tomorrow?" I asked, indicating the notes we had made from the book.

"Can we?" she stifled a yawn. We began collecting up our things. I wondered briefly if our theories really had been so far off the mark. I didn't have all the details but Potter had certainly had it rough the last few years in particular. "We don't have Potions till Tuesday right?"

"Uh huh."

As we headed out of the library (watched closely by the beady eyes of Madam Pince), I turned to Daphne and said, "I've been meaning to ask – what was Hermione Granger like as a partner in Defence Against the Dark Arts? I remember you being so _thrilled_ about it."

She punched me playfully on the arm. "Shut up. Imagine having to put up with this all lesson - " she put on a high pitched voice that did bear a good resemblance to Granger's " – Oh let's try that _again_ Daphne, I'm not sure we got it right! Please stop doodling in that book Daphne it's rather rude. Were you even _paying_ attention at the beginning Daphne?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Well, at least you're with someone who's entertaining," I said, remembering the hostile silence I'd endured from Ron Weasley.

"I'd take someone who ignored me over Hermione any day, even if it was Weasley," she complained as we headed towards the dungeons.

I didn't give Potter and the book a second thought.

----

Racing along a corridor, my bag swinging erratically from my right shoulder, I cursed myself for my bad luck. Well, it wasn't bad luck really. I had in actual fact slept in and was late to my first lesson. I couldn't recall ever doing that before and I was angry that no one had tried to wake me. It wasn't at all surprising that none of the other boys had bothered but Daphne could have at least come to check on me.

Throwing my arms out I managed to stop myself slamming headlong into a wall as I turned a corner and dashed down the corridor that led to the room where Potions was held. At least I hadn't had far to run and was only about five minutes late at most.

However, Professor Snape would probably not see it that way.

I ducked into the room as quietly as possible and quickly sought out my friend as Professor Snape addressed the class.

" … And in the very unlikely event that any of you have managed to produce a remotely satisfactory…you are five minutes late Mr. Zabini."

Damn. I'd been hoping that my diminutive size might have helped me slip in unnoticed. I might as well have hoped for it to rain Galleons.

"Yes sir, I'm very sorry sir," I said meekly between gasps as I struggled to catch my breath. I was not an athletic person at all which was partly the reason why I had no interest in Quidditch. Well, that and I thought it a boring waste of time.

Snape eyed me as I sat down beside Daphne. "I would hope that students from my House would set a good example to others," He continued, shooting a rather barbed glance at the Gryffindors.

"Yes sir," I said again, taking out my homework, noting that Daphne's own homework was quite a bit longer than mine.

"As I was saying – if any of you have actually managed to produce a satisfactory Truth Potion I may test some of them on you at the end of the lesson." The class shuddered. Nobody was exactly thrilled at the prospect of revealing some of their innermost secrets to the whole class. I was not concerned though. What we were making was only moderately strong at best. Not anywhere near as powerful as Veritaserum for instance. Besides it was very rare for Snape to actually make us test our potions. It was usually only something he did when he was in a particularly foul mood.

"How come you didn't come and wake me?" I hissed to Daphne as I set up my cauldron.

"I thought you were sick or something. It's not like you to sleep in," she answered, ferreting around for her ingredients.

"Yeah, that's true."

"Why didn't any of them wake you up?" She indicated the other Slytherin boys as she began to measure out spine of lionfish. "Oh wait, I just remembered who I'm taking about." I snorted with laughter as I took out my pumice stone and began to idly pass it from one hand to the other.

As we set to the task of putting the potion together, something that required the kind of patience I did not posses, which was probably why mine always turned out to be merely usable rather than great, Professor Snape went about his rounds. He stalked between our cauldrons, criticising nearly everyone he came to.

I noticed through the steam emanating from the bubbling cauldrons that a small group of Gryffindors were huddled in conversation beside theirs. Since Snape was quite happy to penalise Gryffindors for the mere act of breathing I thought that blatantly talking in his class was a silly thing for them to do.

Putting down the pumice stone that I'd been juggling, I wandered over to the student store cupboard on Daphne's orders to fetch some knotgrass. The sound of Snape's silky voice drifted in as I was pulling out several clumps. He seemed to be telling off the students I'd seen talking earlier.

" … Seem to think my class is strictly for your own personal chat time. Well, allow me to correct you…" audible sniggering broke out at this. My fellow Slytherins were apparently enjoying the show.

"Yeuch!" I said to myself as I saw that my fingers had turned rather green from pulling out the knotgrass. Bloody stuff got everywhere. Deciding that I must have enough, I picked up what I had collected and went back into the classroom. I blinked in surprise when I saw Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom seated in the previously unoccupied space at the end of our table.

"What are they doing here?" I whispered as I carefully added the knotgrass to the mixture.

"Professor Snape moved them here," Daphne explained, sounding none too pleased. "Because they were talking or something." I wasn't exactly ecstatic at the new seating arrangement either since Longbottom managed to be the cause of some kind of accident every single Potions lesson. It was surprising that he had managed to qualify for Advanced Potions at all since you needed good O.W.L. scores and Professor Snape was pretty selective. But then again – I was here wasn't I? And I was hardly outstanding at it either.

"We have to leave this to simmer for a while," I said, rechecking the instructions on the blackboard. "And then we add the stone at the end."

Daphne sat down and pulled out the latest copy of _The Quibbler_ from her schoolbag, a bizarre magazine full of hilarious and very silly stories. We loved it simply because it was so off the wall. I picked my nails, bored. Then something caught my eye. A few tables in front Draco Malfoy was huddled with his henchmen and they kept shooting malevolent looks in our direction. I realised they were looking at Longbottom and I wondered with some apprehension what they were planning to do and whether I should be getting out of the way.

Hermione seemed to have noticed too because I overheard her say "Ignore them Neville." Longbottom nodded with a resolute look on his face, a look I could not recall ever seeing on him before.

Daphne nudged me in the side. "Look at this story," She said, giggling. I peered over her shoulder. It was about flying carpets and how some of them had minds of their own. I was just reading the opening sentence when something small came flying towards our table. It all happened so fast that it took a while for me to realise what had happened. I have absolutely no idea what made me do it - what made me take those two hurried steps, stretch out my hand and snatch the missile that was en route to Longbottom's cauldron out of the air.

There was a protracted silence as every face in the class turned towards me. I stared dumbly down at the pitted little stone I had clutched in my hand. At the time I had had no idea that if the pumice stone was added at the wrong time it could cause an explosive reaction. Unwittingly I had just saved Longbottom from a potential disaster.

Malfoy's grey eyes narrowed in fury at me but the general atmosphere was one of puzzlement. They obviously couldn't understand why a Slytherin had apparently helped a Gryffindor.

Snape eventually broke the silence. "Get back to work! Now! Zabini, give Mr. Malfoy his pumice stone back."

I stared at him, not sure I had heard him correctly. "Pardon?"

"He threw it at Neville on purpose!" burst in another voice, shrill with anger. It was Hermione.

"If I want your input Miss Granger, I'll ask for it!" snarled Snape. He held out his hand for the stone, which I handed back mutely. He swept up to Draco and gave it back to him.

For a very long time I stood there staring at nothing.

"What the hell just happened?" Daphne asked after what seemed like an eternity.

I don't know," I replied sincerely.


	3. Chapter Two

- Chapter Two -

One Saturday morning several weeks later I received a letter from home. After breakfast I went back up to the boys dormitory to read it in peace. Sitting on my bed I carefully perused the parchment, occasionally sharing the funny bits with Daphne who was perched on the end of the bed. I never minded her being in here as long as it was empty. The other boys had voiced objections about it in the past for obvious reasons.

My father cheerfully updated me on all the latest family news (my uncle Theophilus had the flu again. Not a week went by when he wasn't apparently suffering from some illness) and mentioned the latest interesting inventory the Department of Magical Antiquities had received. My dad worked there sorting and cataloguing ancient magical artefacts, some of which had rather nasty curses on them. I had lost count of the times my dad had come home with rather unattractive growths covering him. Still it certainly made his occupation amusing to say the least and dad had noted down a few particular incidents that had occurred over the last week.

"Listen to this one," I giggled to Daphne. She stopped writing in her journal and looked up. "Apparently one of the wizards my dad works with ended up with the word 'thief' burned into an … err … interesting part of his body when he touched one of those Elizabethan crystal balls!"

Daphne laughed and made a show of looking revolted. "But why would anyone want to protect a crystal ball?" She asked. "I can't imagine anyone wanting to steal them."

"I dunno. Maybe they worked better back then."

"Goodness knows they don't now," she sniggered.

I lay back on my bed, wondering whether I should send a reply. My parents did like to know how I was getting on but I often found I never had anything really interesting to tell them and therefore my letters tended to sound the same – boring.

My mind wandered back to the half remembered incident in Potions. I hadn't given it much thought. The only backlash I had received in punishment for the heinous crime of saving a Gryffindor from potential embarrassment was a tirade from Malfoy that had made my ears ring and that hadn't been much of a punishment at all. Malfoy had run out of steam pretty quickly when I had offered nothing but a wide-eyed stare of confusion in my defence. It had been rather fascinating to watch Draco's face turn pink with exasperation when he realised his rant wasn't having any affect on me. He normally looked so pale and ghostly.

Eventually I decided to send a standard 'I'm fine, settled in ok, enjoying my classes' reply. Fetching a quill and parchment from my bedside cabinet I started to write then paused when an idea suddenly occurred to me. I hadn't given it a second thought since Daphne had raised the subject at the start of term … it would be easy … but it just wasn't the right to way to go about it … downright cowardly in fact.

Sighing I hastily scribbled the letter and tied it to the leg of our family owl Hector. I watched him fly off then turned and sat back down on the bed.

Daphne was watching me intently as if she somehow had read my mind. The corners of her mouth were turned down in slight disapproval but she didn't say anything. Instead she finished whatever it was she had been writing in her notebook and said, "Why don't we go and sit down by the lake. It's a nice enough day." Indeed the weather was rather warm for the end of September and it was relaxing to just sit quietly by the water, watching the giant squid going about it's business.

"Sounds good." I fetched my cloak so we would have something to sit on and we set off. The water sparkled invitingly in the sun when we reached the edge. For the moment the squid was nowhere in sight.

Plenty of other students were out and about too, having also decided to make the most of the unusually good weather. They were dotted around the banks of the lake or just strolling around the grounds.

We saw Luna Lovegood, a fifth year Ravenclaw whose father was the editor of _The Quibbler_. She was in the company of a red haired girl I recognised as Ron Weasley's sister although I couldn't remember her name offhand – Jenny or something.

More amusing was the sight of Draco walking with Pansy, reluctantly holding her hand as he glanced nervously around, not wanting to be seen doing anything so hopelessly unmacho.

"How repulsive," smirked Daphne as we watched them stroll back towards the castle.

"I know. I can't believe Malfoy would allow himself to be seen holding the hand of his girlfriend." I'd once heard him boasting about how he had employed the 'treat 'em mean and keep 'em keen' strategy with Pansy. Clearly, like so much with Malfoy, this was all talk.

"Oh he's not doing it willingly," said Daphne in a lofty tone that implied she knew something I did not.

"Really? I didn't see Pansy forcing him at wand point."

"She doesn't need to. Pansy's been complaining for a while now that he's not showing her enough affection - "

"Didn't anyone inform her she was going out with a Malfoy?" I asked with a derisive snort. Daphne frowned at the interruption. "Oh sorry, carry on."

"So anyway, she basically told him she would break up with him if he didn't buck his ideas up. Hence the hand holding."

I stared in disbelief. "He gave into her?"

"Well," said Daphne with a mischievous look on her face. "It's not like the girls are queuing up around the block to go out with him is it? And if he was the dumped one he would definitely lose face. Draco's always banging on about how he's got her wrapped around his little finger after all …" ah, now that definitely sounded like Malfoy.

"Not very impressed with him anymore is she?" I said, remembering how in the past Pansy had turned into a simpering moron whenever Malfoy had been in the room. The amusement value of this spectacle had quickly worn off and it had become embarrassing to watch.

"Apparently not."

I lay back on my cloak, which we had spread out on the grass, the sun warm on my face. A cool breeze was blowing which took the edge off the heat of the day. Daphne took off her glasses (they kept sliding down her rather sweaty nose) and, following my example, lay back too. We remained there for a while making idle small talk.

"To think in a month this will be but a distant memory," Daphne sighed.

"Good of you to remind me," I said pleasantly. One simply could not be grouchy on a day like this.

When it was nearly time for lunch we decided to go for a walk around the grounds. As I was picking up my cloak, brushing off the bits of dirt and other debris that had adhered to it, three students walked past apparently in the midst of an intense conversation that was threatening to turn into an argument. Daphne nudged me sharply in the side.

"Ouch! What…?" I began indignantly then I saw what. It was Harry Potter and his two friends Weasley and Granger.

"Are we going to start stalking them now?" I asked exasperatedly, rubbing my side where Daphne had elbowed me.

"No, but didn't you hear what they were saying?" Daphne said in an excited whisper. Without further ado she set off after them leaving me to catch up with her.

"No, I didn't hear what they were saying," I replied, quite intrigued now.

The three students were walking pretty fast and kept looking over their shoulders, as if searching for eavesdroppers. Daphne and I reached a silent agreement and hung back a bit. When they rounded a corner of the castle we sped up. Finally we were in earshot again as they had stopped just around the corner. We ducked back and laid flat against the wall, listening.

"What…?" I asked again but Daphne shushed me. Granger's voice could be heard, tight with emotion.

"…Yes, it was sad, it was tragic and it's something we will never forget. I understand why you're doing this but Harry, don't you think this is the kind of thing best left to wizards in the Order? To people who have more experience in fighting the Dark Lord?"

There was a pause. Finally, Potter answered. "Yes, but … I can't do nothing," he replied in a heavy, defeated tone. Another uneasy silence followed. Potter's friends apparently didn't really know what to say.

Eventually, Weasley broke the silence. "Look, we have a DA meeting scheduled for tomorrow. Let's just concentrate on planning that," he said firmly.

"Ok," Harry agreed. I could practically hear Hemione's sigh of relief but it was doubtful that this was the end of the matter.

They started walking again, their footsteps slowly fading away.

"The DA?" I repeated when I was sure they had gone. "What's that when it's at home?"

"It stands for Dumbledore's Army," Daphne said promptly. Off my confused look she clarified, "I was in the Inquisitorial Squad, remember? It was our job to get them into trouble. They used to meet in the Room of Requirement."

"Oh yeah, I remember now." With a sly grin I added, "I also remember that they escaped from you all." Daphne went red.

"That … was just luck. Besides, they fought dirty!" She spluttered.

"How?"

"Well, they … erm … kicked and stuff … um … oh all right so they kicked our backsides because they were better than us. And seeing as how that was not my proudest moment I'll thank you to stop laughing now!"

I struggled to get my giggles under control. "See? It's so much better when you tell the truth."

"They mentioned something else too," Daphne went on, ignoring me. "The Order was it? What do you suppose that is?"

I frowned. They had said something about the Order having more experience with fighting the Dark Lord. In that case there was only one thing they could be.

"Aurors," I muttered. "If they are dark wizard fighters they must be Aurors."

"And Potter has known Aurors since … when?" Daphne asked, raising an eyebrow disbelievingly. I felt rather offended by the scepticism since, at least in my head, my deduction made perfect sense. Potter attracted dark wizards without much effort; therefore he would have come into contact with those who fight dark wizards at one time or another. How, I wasn't quite sure.

All of this I explained to my friend but she still wasn't entirely convinced, arguing that it would make far more sense for Aurors to stay very far away from Potter for their own protection. If they were around him it would be incredibly easy for Voldemort to know who they all were thus rendering the secrecy surrounding the identities of all the Aurors entirely pointless.

As much as I hated to admit it but Daphne actually had a valid point there. It was also possible that Potter didn't actually know any Aurors at all and had simply read about the Order in a book. This theory annoyed me somewhat because I had done a lot of reading up on my chosen career and had never found one reference to an 'Order' of any kind anywhere.

"Well," Daphne said eventually. "As much as I enjoy a good mystery, I'm hungry. Let's go get some lunch!"

"Don't you think in future we should leave the stalking to somebody who is a little more unbalanced?" I asked light heartedly as we walked back to the castle. Truth be told I didn't want to be seen trailing after Potter and being labelled one of his hangers on. I was above such silly hero worship and the idea of anyone thinking otherwise was mortifying.

"Who is more unbalanced than us?"

"Well, Malfoy for one."

"Hmm. You're right. Ritualistic stalking of Harry Potter is really more his territory," Daphne replied as she held the door into the Entrance Hall open for me.

I nodded. "And we wouldn't want to crowd him."

September turned into October rather too soon for my liking. The weather turned fairly miserable but it did nothing to dampen the spirits of the Hogwarts students since they were all anticipating the first Quidditch match of the season – Slytherin versus Gryffindor. As ever, I failed to see the attraction of this pointless sport.

However, I always seemed to end up going to the matches. Mostly out of a sense that I should support my House team. Besides, there was always the bonus of perhaps seeing someone you didn't like get hurt. In my case that was nearly everybody so I was seldom disappointed.

One evening, a couple of days before the game, the common room was crowded with Slytherins discussing the upcoming match – going through new tactics the team captain was rumoured to be planning to use and other such things relating to Quidditch that I did not really understand.

I was seated in a corner away from the crowd, completing some Astronomy homework. For the most part the hubbub didn't bother me but every now and again it rose to an intrusive din. I didn't feel inclined to go to the library however so I did my best to block the noise out when it got too loud.

"Well, personally, I really think we have the upper hand due to what happened last year," declared a fourth year. "Potter is bound to be out of practice after being booted off the team!" Cheers and applause greeted the student's words, causing me to wince slightly and consider the possibility of admitting defeat in regards to finishing my homework tonight.

"Oh _honestly_," hissed Daphne, who seemed to have materialised out of thin air in to the chair across from me and was now listening to the conversations going on around us. Unlike me, she had quite a healthy interest in Quidditch and supported the Falmouth Falcons.

"Everyone possessing even half a brain cell knows we'll lose," she continued. "Naturally, when we do they'll come up with one thousand and one reasons for why it was not the team's fault, thus completely ignoring the fact that the real reason we lose and will continue to do so is because our Quidditch team is pants!"

A pause. I continued to write, oblivious to Daphne's narrowed eyes as she waited expectantly for some response from me.

"And your not listening to a word I'm saying."

"You are absolutely right. I'm not," I answered. "That is because I'm finishing my homework, which you may find is a far more constructive activity than discussing the Sport of Snores."

"Seeing as you are my best friend, I'll choose to ignore that insulting nickname you have given to our noble sport."

Resisting the urge to make another disparaging remark about the so-called 'noble sport,' I put down my quill and rolled up my parchment. Luckily, this was one piece of homework I had decided not to leave till the night before so I could work on it later. The problem was our homework was increasing in both difficulty and amount these days and showed no signs of slowing down. Therefore I would have preferred to get at least one piece out of the way that night.

Putting the half finished work back into my bag I rose from my chair and said tiredly, "Well, as stimulating as this conversation is not, I really must head for bed. Isn't it funny how Quidditch talk has that anti-insomnia effect on me?"

"You will notice Blaise, that I am not laughing. Therefore it's not funny."

I chuckled despite myself. "Good night. I hope tomorrow that you wake up with better taste."

"Oh get lost you spoil sport," she said with a disparaging wave, signifying that this conversation was well and truly at an end.

I took my cue and left.

Inside the boys dormitory I undressed and got into bed. My leg brushed something hard and rectangular that fell with a thump to the floor. Puzzled as I was not in the habit of leaving things out in this room lest it end up in the wrong hands, I got out of bed and went to see what it was.

It was Daphne's notebook. We had shared many secrets between each other, as we were the only people either of us trusted enough with private information but the content of her notebooks was not one of those things. Oh, I had asked to see one of them at least but had always been met with a curt refusal and a no nonsense glare.

Shivering in just my thin pyjamas I stared down at the book, a sudden and horrible temptation creeping over me. It would be easy enough to just take a little peek and she would never know, would she?

_But she's your best friend and you know she'd kill you several thousand times over if you looked. Never mind the fact that your friendship with Daphne would be well and truly over,_ my inner voice of reason berated angrily.

I eventually resisted the urge to look after a long inner debate and tossed it onto the nightstand beside my bed. As curious as I was, I was not prepared to lose my best friend, my only friend, over something so trivial.

I fell asleep assured that I made the right decision.

What failed to even vaguely cross my mind however, was that I was sharing a room with people who had no such qualms about looking at someone else's' personal property.


End file.
